


Only Something in Me

by rowofstars



Series: S6 Fix-Its [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti-Golden Queen, Cunnilingus, Episode: s06e07 Heartless (Once Upon a Time), Established Relationship, Estrangement, F/M, Fix-It, Makeup Sex, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fic, Rough Sex, Smut, just in case for that one, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Furious over Rumple's involvement with the Evil Queen, Belle confronts him in his shop. But things do not go as planned once Belle's anger and jealous take over.





	Only Something in Me

**Author's Note:**

> I meant for this to be posted over a year ago, but I could never get the momentum going. It can be read as a direct sequel to [Not Even the Rain.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8281567) For the September prompt @a-monthly-rumbelling: Noise, misunderstanding, healing, hickeys, make-up. A post-episode, fix-it fic for 6x07 Heartless (aka the episode where Rumple got the sonogram photo and Belle told him off and other things happened that we won’t talk about.)

As soon as the shop door closes behind her, the jingle of the bell ringing out in the quiet late afternoon, Belle knows. 

She freezes on the sidewalk, her mouth gaping for a second before she snaps it shut. That perfume scent was one she’d come to know well during her time in Regina’s dungeon, before the curse, when she’d still had hope she could escape and make it back to Rumplestiltskin. It’s a heavy, floral smell with a strange under current of a spice she could never place. It had sickened her every time Regina had come to see her, and now it lingers in the pawn shop, as if the Evil Queen had been there only a short time ago. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath before spinning on her heel and yanking the door open again.

The bell clangs violently as she storms into the shop, her heels pounding on the old wood floor. Rumple startles, and drops the sonogram image as he turns from his position at the counter. His eyes go wide as his wife approaches, her jaw and fists clenching in anger, magnificent and terrifying all at once.

Bell stops with barely a foot between them and tips her head up, eyeing her husband. “She was here,” she says, calmly. “The Evil Queen. Regina’s other - whatever.”

Rumple swallows and shifts nervously from one foot to the other. Her voice is surprisingly cold and detached, a sign that is still quite angry with him despite their previous encounter in his shop just a couple of weeks ago. “Yes.”

She nods and looks away, taking a breath before she asks, “Why?”

“Belle, I -” he stops and then sighs, knowing that no explanation will be acceptable. Nothing he has done in these last months has been acceptable, he knows that, but he let his weakness overwhelm him in taking back the Dark Curse, and in turn the curse feeds once more on his desperation and anger. 

It’s nothing more than an excuse. 

“She doesn’t matter,” he says finally.

Belle lets out a quiet snort of disbelief and meets his gaze, steadily. “Do you love her?”

Rumple shakes and recoils, his nose wrinkling as he visibly winces. “ _No! Gods_ \- Belle, no!” Then he looks her in the eyes. “No. _Please_ believe me.”

Belle’s left shoulder lifts in a bit of a shrug. The scent of the perfume was on him too. If the Queen hadn’t touched him, or done even more, then she’d at least been in extremely close proximity. Her next thought fills her stomach with dread and makes a lump form in her throat. She sucks in a shaky breath and exhales slowly, fixing her husband with a hard glare.

“Did you _fuck_ her?”

He recoils again, his face contorting in something close to abject horror at the thought of more than what he’s already forced himself to do. It is unconscionable. _Impossible_ , even. But Belle thinks he might have. His wife is ready to consider that he would cheat on her, on their love, for his own ends. This is how far he’s fallen.

“ _No_ ,” he says firmly, his lip curling slightly, exposing the glint of gold tooth he’s had since the first curse. His face is every bit as serious as Belle’s, and he prays that if she believes nothing else of him, that he was only working to protect her and their unborn child, that she believes this.

Something in Belle seems to break at that. She believes him, despite knowing that _something_ has happened between him and the Evil Queen, something that has left the scent of her behind in the shop and on her husband. 

And he is _her_ husband. 

Their separation doesn’t change the fact that deep down she loves him, and that she wants everything that has happened in the last few months to be a bad dream. She wants to wake up in their pink house, in their big bed, with the morning light twinkling through the curtains. She wants the quiet comfort of his arms and the warm ache between her legs from the way he fucks her.

Belle grabs the lapels of his suit jacket and pulls him to her, closing the short distance between them and pressing her lips to his. For a second, he doesn’t react, but then he gasps and reaches for her. She falls into him, letting her body push against the length of his as her hands move up to play in the hair at the back of his neck, still trimmed short. It didn’t take long to decide she liked it just as much as his longer hair. It’s grayer and softer, and he can’t hide his face from her as easily.

Rumplestiltskin breaks the kiss, pulling at her bottom lip, as his hands finally come to life, sliding down her back to squeeze her arse through the light, lacy fabric of her dress. He feels her hands move to his belt, and then the gentle tug at his waist as she works the leather open. Part of him wants to stop her. They’re still too messed up, too at odds for this, just like they were the last time.

She gets his belt open and kisses him again, all teeth and smeared lipstick. He stumbles forward as she takes the ends of the leather in each of her hands, using the belt to direct him through the curtain into the dimly lit workroom. The work table shudders as they fall into it, his arse against the thick varnished wood edge. He keeps one hand on her backside but the other moves to her thigh, lifting her leg around him so she can feel his growing erection.

Her hips shift as she rubs herself on him, shameless in her need, her panties damp with arousal that still comes too easily when he’s near. The friction is good, but not enough, and not what she has in mind now that she knows Regina’s evil twin has been sniffing around what’s hers. She pulls away, breaking the kiss, and drops to the floor.

The old wood floor bites at her knees, but it’s what she deserves, what keeps her grounded this moment of recklessness.  
“Belle…”

She closes her eyes at the sound of her name, always so soft and reverent, like he still can’t believe she’s here and that she wants him.

“Belle, you don’t -”

His words are cut off by a gasp and the sharp sound of his zipper as she works to free his cock. He looks down with wild, dark eyes, mouth gaping open, as she strokes him slowly, making him harden fully in her hand.

“Rumple,” she says, meeting his gaze. “Shut up.”

The look on his face reminds her of another time she did this, when she was on her knees in their bedroom in nothing but a pair of sheer black panties, and he was fully clothed save for his cock throbbing in her hand. She had intended to put him in her mouth that night, and swallow everything he gave her, but his expressions as she touched him, and the sounds he made were fascinating. He came on her face, her neck, her chest, sticky and hot, and she revelled in it, both the control she had over him in the moment and the way it made her feel claimed by him.

The memory has her pressing her thighs together beneath her dress, a rush of pleasure soaking her underwear. She sits forward and flicks her tongue against the head of his cock, holding him gently enough that she can feel the twitch of his shaft as it jump in her palm. He’s panting hard, and she looks up at him, their eyes meeting as she takes him in her mouth.

Rumple’s head falls back on a groan, and he grips the edge of the workbench until his knuckles are white. He doesn’t deserve this, not from her, but he can’t bring himself to push her away or tell her to stop. Her lips close over the head of his cock, enveloping it in soft, wet warmth. She holds him there and moves her tongue over the tip, teasing and soothing at the same time, until he lets out a pleading whimper.

She smiles slightly and widens her mouth, moving down his length slowly. Saliva drips from her lips, tickling his sensitive skin as it slides down, meeting the base of his cock at the same time as her mouth. He throbs against her tongue, and she hollows her cheeks, sucking hard as she draws up and scraping her nails against his thighs at the same time.

His cock slips out of Belle’s mouth with a wet pop, the cooler air against his hot skin making him gasp. He looks down at her, wondering what she’s going to do next, waiting for the moment when she leaves and destroys him for good.

Belle sits back on her heels and licks her lips slowly, keeping her hand wrapped around him. She gives him a squeeze, and he makes the most delightful, strained noise.

“Do you want more?” she asks, leaning in as she speaks to let her hot breath whisper against him. 

Rumplestiltskin swallows hard. “Yes. _Please_ , Belle -” She squeezes him again, hard, and his words fall off on a strangled groan.

She waits until he looks down at her, his warm, dark eyes meeting her fierce blue, and lets go of him, removing all sensation. “Then _earn it._ ”

With that she stands, shucks her panties to the floor, and crosses to the old cot against the wall. Her fingers lift the hem of her dress as she sits, pulling it up around her waist, and then she spreads her legs wide. One hand comes down to touch herself, sliding through her folds, as the other slips her dress over her shoulder.

His mouth falls open, and then a second later he falls on his knees, grunting at the impact before he crawls towards her. The floor is rough and dusty, dragging streaks of gray dust along his trousers, and his cock is bobbing lewdly, still aching for his wife’s touch. Without a word he sets his hands on her thighs and holds her open as he lowers his mouth to her, replacing her fingers with his tongue.

He tugs her forward to the edge of the cot, where the thin cushion meets the metal edge, and tips her hips up, exposing more of her slick pussy. She cries out and bucks against his face, smearing her juices over his chin, and threads her fingers through his hair. With one hand on her hip, he pushes her down, firmly, while two long fingers of his other hand slide smoothly into her cunt.

His tongue glides through her folds as his fingers pump in and out, slow and steady. Every now and then he catches her clit, feeling her whole body tense and twitch with pleasure and drawing one desperate noise after another from her lips. She closes her legs slightly, letting the rough stubble of his cheeks graze her inner thighs, and he moans into her, relishing the taste and feeling of her as she slowly comes apart for him.

Belle thrashes against the cot and pulls at her dress until it falls down over her breasts, baring her pale blue bra. She pulls at her own nipples, wanting more than this gradual build of intense pleasure, wanting the roughness and sharpness she feels she deserves for pushing her husband away when he needed her most, for breaking her family apart because she somehow that would fix things. The swell of her belly partially blocks her view of his face, and she claws at his scalp until he lifts his head.

Their eyes meet, and he’s very aware of everything that’s between them, and the new life that’s somehow sprung from the barren wasteland he’s made of their marriage. His fingers are still inside her and as she bites her lip and pulls at his head. Although they’ve been in this position many times before, he wonders if he’ll ever see anything more erotic, more beautiful, than her pleasure. He holds her gaze and dips his head, running his tongue slowly around her labia and up over her mound to collect all her juices. His cock jumps against his belly, trapped between the edge of the blanket that’s fallen over the side of the cot and his heated skin. The tip is still wet from her mouth and dripping, and his need is just short of painful, but he needs to make her come.

He shifts to the side and sucks at the skin of her thigh as she writhes and tries to bring his mouth back to where she wants it. His fingers are still working inside her, keeping her close to the edge as he uses his teeth and lips to mark her. It will be something to remember him by, to have as evidence of this when it all falls apart again tomorrow. He’ll know its there, and that will have to be enough.

“ _Rumple_ ,” she half-whines, half-gasps.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

He wants her to say it, has to hear her say it before he can give her what she really needs. Before he can punish the both of them for failing each other in the worst possible ways.

She licks her lips and pushes herself up on her hands. “Make me come.”

With a satisfied smirk, he returns his mouth to her swollen, aching pussy, licking at it as softly as he might kiss her in the morning until she whimpers. She reaches a hand up and twists her nipple sharply through the thin lace, crying out as the sensation shoots through her like lightning. His fingers push deep, curling just so until she clenches around him. He could stop right now, and she almost wants him to, wants him to leave her screaming and aching and unfulfilled because neither of them deserve this. 

They deserve each other, and yet so much better.

Tears prick the corners of her eyes as she pinches herself again, hard. Finally, he takes her clit between his lips, and sucks firmly, rubbing the roughest part of his tongue back and forth over the tender nub until every nerve feels raw. Her whole body shudders, and she comes with a scream, her pussy squeezing his fingers. 

Belle falls back against the cot, spent, and he gives her a few last licks, every flick of his tongue making her shiver head to toe. When he stops, she reaches for him, urging him up until he’s covering her body with his and they’re both stretched out along the rickety cot. He kisses her hard, pushing her own flavor into her mouth his tongue, as his hips start to move against her, rubbing his cock through the slickness left behind from her orgasm.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, turning her head to the side and directing his mouth to her neck. She wants him to mark her there too, somewhere everyone will see and know. “Show me you’re mine.”

Rumple nips at her, following it with a soft press of his lips, and then he’s pushing inside her. She squeezes him with her cunt in tight, sharp pulses, lifting her hips into his as he starts to thrust. The zipper of his trousers drags against the crease of her leg as his hand paws at her breast, finding her nipple and pulling it roughly. She arches into him and cries out, feeling the weight of him press along her body, their bellies rubbing against each other.

Every thrust is met with a sharp squeak, and the scrap of her nails as they claw at his back. “S’good,” she gasps. “ _Fuck - oh_ \- Rum -”

“Come for me,” he growls. “Touch yourself and come. _Belle._ ”

Her face is wet and she’s almost sobbing as she works a hand between their bodies and rubs and rubs. He pulses inside her, a searing heat she can feel from within, and it pulls her over the edge again.

When she finally stops and comes back to herself, the heel of her palm is pressing against the swell of her abdomen. The place where their child is growing, a child who needs both of his parents, needs their protection and their love, and it finally all bursts out of her. She wraps herself around her husband, holding him close as she cries against his neck.

Rumplestiltskin pulls her to him and rolls over, letting her lay against his chest. He whispers nonsense in her ear and pets her hair, his eyes squeezing shut as they burn with unshed tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. “My Belle. Lovely, Belle. I love you so much, my darling.”

Belle lifts her head and kisses him, just to the side his lips, messily. “I love you too.”

“I was wrong,” he manages. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore, Belle.”

He knows this is it. It has to be. Going on like this is madness, and he doesn’t even know what his plan is anymore, or why it was so necessary to involve Regina’s even-more-evil half. All he wants is his family and if he has to give up every stitch of power left in him, he’ll do it. He’s finally ready for that.

“I know,” she says, stroking his hair as she settles her head on his chest again. “I can’t either.”

He swallows and takes a slow breath, loving the weight of her on him after so long. As he exhales he can feel something leaving him, something heavy and sharp, and even if this is the end of them, at least he’ll have had this. “What do we do?”

He can’t look at her as she moves and sits up. He can’t watch her walk away again, even though it’s what she should do.

She lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses his knuckles one at a time until he turns his head and looks at her. His hands are so warm, and they smell of her, of them. It makes her chest ache, and her belly flutter. It might be their baby, or her own nerves, she doesn’t know, but something has changed. There’s an openness in his eyes, a trust, that hasn’t been there in - _years_ , she thinks - and it springs a hope in her so small and delicate she almost doesn’t dare say it out loud.

_Do the brave thing._

It’s a motto that hasn’t failed her yet, and maybe, she thinks, that’s when she started to fail herself, when she stopped doing the brave thing because it wasn’t easy or safe. She doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, only that she finally understands it for what it is.

“I don’t know,” she admits, giving him a teary-eyed smile. “But I _love_ you. And we’ll do it together. Okay?”

His eyes go wide and he nods as she pulls his hand down and rests it against her belly. “A happy ending?” he asks, not understanding where the thought or the words are coming from.

She shakes her head and rests her forehead against his. “No, not an ending. A beginning.”


End file.
